


kiss my fetus

by thunderylee



Category: Kis-My-Ft2 (Band)
Genre: Canon Universe, M/M, Mpreg, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-23
Updated: 2012-07-23
Packaged: 2019-01-20 07:03:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,229
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12427449
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thunderylee/pseuds/thunderylee
Summary: The punishment for swiping boots is fierce.





	kiss my fetus

**Author's Note:**

> reposted from agck.

“The fuck,” Taisuke mumbles, hugging the porcelain throne for the eighth day in a row. “This is a hell of a summer flu.”

“It seems to only want to attack _you_ , too,” Kitayama replies from where he’s hunched over the sink, pretending not to be concerned. “I’ve been filming with you this whole time and I feel fine.”

“Ugh.” Taisuke wipes his mouth and tries to stand up, losing his balance three times before he just gives up and holds out his arm. When nothing happens, Taisuke narrows his eyes towards his band mate. “ _Mitsu_ , you could help me up.”

“You could ask for help,” Kitayama says, clutching onto the proffered forearm and pulling Taisuke to his feet effortlessly. “I’m not a mind reader.”

“Why are you even in here?” Taisuke asks. “It’s embarrassing to have you watch me throw up.”

He gets a slap to the head in response. “I care about you, idiot. I’m our group leader. It’s my job to care.”

Taisuke tries to roll his eyes sarcastically, but he feels faint and ends up falling right on Kitayama. “Sorry,” he says. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

“We’re going to the doctor after work,” Kitayama says firmly. “In the meantime, do your best for our drama.”

“Yes, sir,” Taisuke says in a mock salute, and Kitayama smacks his face with cold water before they head back to the set.

Taisuke spends the rest of the day trying not to fall over, convinced that it’s watching Kitayama strut around in a police uniform that makes him nauseous.

*

“ _What_ ,” two voices deadpan, one of them Taisuke’s.

“I don’t understand it either,” says Johnny’s personal medic, the one he enlists for scandalous treatments like STDs and unplanned pregnancies — though the unplanned pregnancies are usually for the girls they sleep with, not them.

Kitayama snatches the test results like he knows how to read them, and Taisuke finds some satisfaction in watching his face scrunch up in confusion. “What does this mean?”

“It means exactly what she said,” Taisuke replies, rolling his eyes. “I’m pregnant.”

His hand gravitates to his belly, which he doesn’t notice until Kitayama’s staring at it, dumbfounded. “How is this even _possible_ –”

“This is beyond the realm of my expertise,” the doctor interrupts, “and if you don’t want to become a lab rat for scientists, you won’t go to any other doctors, either.”

Taisuke thinks about bright lights and mazes and frowns. “What am I supposed to do, then?”

“What every other poor girl your lot knocks up does,” the doctor replies with a shrug. “Take prenatals, stay out of the tabloids, and come back periodically for checkups. Or you can get an abortion.”

Taisuke’s heart stops as he clutches onto his belly with both hands. “I’ll take the pills.”

Kitayama still looks like aliens have landed and are trying to sell him crater-front property on Mars. “Where will it… come out?”

Now Taisuke’s blood runs cold as he considers the only possibility, but the doctor laughs. “We’ll do a cesarean, obviously.”

“Obviously,” Taisuke adds, smiling in relief. “God, I’m going to get so fat.”

“That is the least of your worries right now!” Kitayama exclaims, raising his voice, and Taisuke cowers under the aggression that he expects _on_ set, not off.

“Mitsu, calm down,” Taisuke says, giving his leader an odd look. “It’ll work out. It has to.”

“Here’s a script for prenatals,” the doctor interrupts them, thrusting a piece of paper in their general direction. “Have your manager get them, don’t lift anything, and _no drugs or alcohol_.”

Taisuke makes a disappointed face, but then the doctor stands up and starts to exit the room.

“Take as long as you need, boys. I know these kinds of things can be life-changing. And congratulations to both of you.”

“Wait–” Kitayama starts, snapping out of his daze to call after her. “It’s not mine!”

Laughter overcomes Taisuke, so hard that he nearly makes himself sick again. “As if.”

Shaking his head, Kitayama pockets the script and leads Taisuke out of the office by his elbow. Taisuke doesn’t think he needs help walking — he’s only weak in the mornings — but he doesn’t mind letting Kitayama do all the work. If he’s going to be pregnant, he’s going to milk the special treatment as much as he can.

Being close enough to smell Kitayama’s cologne isn’t that bad, either.

*

“Do we look stupid?” Senga asks, giving them both an unimpressed look from Nikaido’s lap.

“Don’t answer that,” Nikaido whispers, and Senga swats at him playfully.

Yokoo looks traumatized, Miyata is grinning happily, and Tamamori’s already nuzzling his face into Taisuke’s stomach, hugging his waist. Taisuke just lounges on the recliner, petting Tamamori’s soft hair and preening from all the attention.

“I didn’t believe it either,” Kitayama tells them, “but it’s right here on paper.”

“I’ll have an ultrasound in a couple weeks,” Taisuke says excitedly. “There should be something more concrete then.”

“Do you feel anything?” Yokoo asks, slowly approaching Taisuke like he’s going to suddenly attack him.

“It’s like a rock,” Taisuke tries to explain. “I thought it was from the flu, but apparently not.”

“You’re going to have it?” Senga asks skeptically.

Taisuke narrows his eyes at him. “Yes I am. It may be the only way I’ll ever get one.”

“You two are the last people on earth who should be having a baby,” Nikaido says, and Taisuke bursts out laughing again.

“Why does everyone think it’s mine?” Kitayama booms indignantly, which just makes Taisuke laugh harder. “I’ve never even touched him.”

“You’re the only one, then,” Tamamori mutters into Taisuke’s shirt, and Taisuke decides not to kick him since he’s cute.

“Who _is_ the father, anyway?” Yokoo asks. “Shouldn’t there be some responsibility taken here?”

“Maybe, if I knew him.” Taisuke shrugs. “You guys know how it goes. You meet someone at a bar, hook up, and give him a fake number so he doesn’t become a stalker.”

“Nobody actually does that, Taipi,” Mitaya says, looking offended at the idea.

“Those of us who get laid do,” Yokoo informs him, and Miyata rolls his eyes.

“So you’re saying that you don’t know who it is,” Kitayama says, and Taisuke doesn’t understand the malice in his voice. “Real nice, Taisuke. And here I thought your slut image was just for the stage.”

Taisuke’s mouth falls open, affronted, and he’s about to defend himself when Tamamori speaks up. “It’s not his fault, Mitsu. These things happen.”

“It could have been prevented, though,” Senga points out. “Even _we_ use protection.”

Nikaido nods in agreement, and Taisuke narrows his eyes at getting a safe sex lecture from the two youngest, even if they’ve been together since before it was legal. Taisuke tries not to be jealous whenever he looks at them, but it’s difficult. They all knew going into this industry that they can either have fame or love, and somehow these two have found both in the same place.

“Regardless,” he says, distracting himself with encouraging thoughts, “this has happened and I need to take responsibility for it on my own. I choose to think of it as a miracle.”

“The timing of your miracle sucks,” Kitayama says. “We can cover it up for the rest of the year, but Countdown is mandatory and you’ll be too big to hide.”

“Can’t I just make a statement as the fat member of the group or something?” Taisuke asks, already exhausted of this topic. “Like that one guy in Super Junior. I can even stay fat after I have the baby — it’ll be awesome.”

“ _No_ ,” Kitayama practically growls, and Taisuke jumps from the sound. Tamamori hugs him tighter, giggling as Taisuke’s stomach makes settling noises. “Maybe we can have them take it out on New Year’s Eve or something. A few weeks shouldn’t make a big difference.”

Taisuke gapes at him. “You want me to be cut open and _dance on stage_ in the same day?”

“Appendicitis!” Nikaido exclaims, snapping his fingers. “We can say you had emergency surgery and that’s why you can’t dance.”

“As expected of Nika,” Senga says proudly, squeezing the other man’s hand.

“Mitsu can even hold you up,” Nikaido adds with a wink.

Taisuke looks to Kitayama for confirmation, but he’s still frowning. “I suppose that will work. At any rate, we have to figure out how we’re going to deal with this in the public eye.”

“That’s what our managers are paid for,” Taisuke says. “I’m hungry. I’m eating for two, you know.”

Just then, Taisuke’s stomach rumbles, and Tamamori jumps back in surprise.

“You are insufferable,” Kitayama tells him, but Taisuke’s too busy debating restaurants with the others to notice.

*

Being pregnant isn’t as fun as Taisuke had thought it would be. The morning sickness has subsided, thanks to the prenatal vitamins, but his feet and back ache worse than after his most excruciating dance practice and he can’t get comfortable no matter how much he tries.

The night before his first ultrasound appointment, a week after _Beginners!_ is done filming, Kitayama shows up at his doorstep with a bag. Taisuke raises his eyebrows, but says nothing as he stands aside to let the other man in. Truth be told, he’s grateful for the company. The vitamins make his hormones go crazy and when he’s not snapping at inanimate objects for not doing what he wants, he feels incredibly lonely. He’d considered asking Tamamori to come take care of him, but Tamamori’s just as spoiled at Taisuke is and Taisuke would probably end up doing more work than if he was here by himself.

Kitayama isn’t a much better option, even if he’s the one standing here in his living room right now. He sets his bag neatly on the couch and turns to Taisuke, clearing his throat. “I’m going to stay with you until the baby is born, because you’re irresponsible and prone to making bad life choices.”

“You’re calling _me_ irresponsible?” Taisuke asks, his nerves sparking for a chance to blow up at someone. “You’ve never even lived by yourself!”

“Yeah, well, I don’t see anyone else here.” Kitayama stuffs his hands in his pockets, staring at the floor, and Taisuke’s rage instantly subsides. “It has to suck doing this all on your own.”

“It does,” Taisuke admits, folding his arms over his chest. “I haven’t even told my family yet. I don’t know how they’re going to react.”

“I told my mom,” Kitayama offers. “She asked me if it was mine.”

Taisuke feels a grin split his face as he laughs, and it’s the happiest he’s felt in days. “Thanks, man, I needed that.”

“I thought you’d be amused.” Kitayama hides a smile as he looks around the small apartment. “Will you show me where everything is? Just in case you need something.”

“Mitsu, I’m pregnant, not crippled,” Taisuke teases him. “And I don’t know if I trust you to cook without an adult.”

Kitayama shoots him a glare, but there’s no malice behind it. “What’s wrong, then? You’ve looked so sad lately. I thought you were happy about this.”

“I am,” Taisuke assures him. “It’s must be the hormones. They’ve got me all… girlified.”

“How is that different from before?” Kitayama asks seriously, and Taisuke looks for the closest thing to throw at him.

He reaches for the remote control, but it’s wrestled out of his hand before he can even lift up his arm. Normally he can hold his own in a strength contest against this one, especially after all of the weight lifting they did to prepare for the drama, but Taisuke feels so weak and emotional that all he can do is drop the device to the floor and wrap his arms around Kitayama’s waist, leaning down to press his forehead into Kitayama’s shoulder and cling to him.

Kitayama’s shirt smells like fabric softener and Taisuke smiles, remembering how Kitayama’s mother still does his laundry and he doesn’t even know how to grocery shop properly. He really is the worst possible person who could be here to help him, but right now Taisuke thinks he’s the best.

Slowly Kitayama’s arms envelop him, surrounding him with warmth and security and Taisuke can’t help it, the tears spilling from his eyes before he can stop them. “I’m sorry,” he says, his voice coming out as a sob, and he immediately regrets speaking.

“Hey, it’s okay,” Kitayama says quietly, holding him tighter. “I’m relieved I can do something for you that I’m good at.”

Taisuke laughs through his tears, though he’s not entirely certain they’re from sadness. “I don’t understand these hormones at all. They just make me _feel_ things, so strongly that I react like this.”

“Come on, let’s sit down,” Kitayama suggests, gently leading Taisuke to his own couch and pulling him down next to him. Taisuke curls up in his lap, shamelessly, and nestles in Kitayama’s arms to watch random variety shows on TV.

“Hey,” Taisuke asks after an hour, the curiosity burning inside him. “Are you just here because you’re the leader of our group?”

Kitayama doesn’t reply right away, but when he does, he’s speaking into Taisuke’s hair. “No.”

Something in Taisuke’s midsection flutters, and he smiles. “Thanks.”

A little while later, he notices Kitayama’s breathing is even and his arms have fallen lax around him. Taisuke laughs at the realization that he’d actually fallen asleep. It’s not even that late, but he’s not surprised at all. Taisuke is quite comfortable and could probably sleep himself if his heart wasn’t racing like he’d just ran a marathon.

He may not understand emotions very well, but he understands attraction completely. Taisuke had made his rounds through the Jimusho years ago, though he’s been much more reserved lately. And Kitayama was right — he’s never touched him. He’d never seemed interested back then, and Taisuke doesn’t like to work for affection. Like a cat, he leans towards the hand that pets him.

Now Kitayama’s the one petting him, and Taisuke’s very aware of how his body is reacting to the sudden closeness. He can feel Kitayama’s even heartbeat through his chest, the soft puffs of air along his hairline, even where his hands rest lightly on Taisuke’s waist leave him tingling for more. Taisuke is a sexual person by nature and the added hormones just seem to make it worse, leaving him ready to jump the other man while he’s sleeping just to satisfy them for awhile.

He wonders if Kitayama would even go for it. He knows that the older man has been with other men, though he’s had his share of women, too. (Most of their shares, actually.) It would probably be more of an issue that it’s _Taisuke_ than what’s in his pants. They were never the best of friends, or even more than work acquaintances when he stops to think about it. Taisuke was always amused at how they’ve been the ones pushed together as the fans’ favorite combination when they are the _least_ close out of all of the members.

That clearly doesn’t apply anymore, even if most of it is hormone-driven. Kitayama is here on his own free will, anyway, and that says more than anything he could admit with words. Taisuke snuggles closer as he considers it, being with Kitayama like _that_ , and heat soars through his body from his head to his toes.

Before his brain can tell him it’s a bad idea, he tilts his head toward Kitayama’s sleeping face and brushes their lips together. A simple action, though Taisuke lingers as long as he can. Just a light, chaste kiss has his skin breaking out in goosebumps, his lips tingling and all of his nerves singeing for more.

Suddenly Kitayama licks his lips and Taisuke’s too stunned to move, frozen to his incriminating spot as the other man’s eyes barely open.

“It’s usually frowned upon to accost people while they’re sleeping,” Kitayama whispers.

“You’re not sleeping anymore,” Taisuke points out.

“Is it _you_ who wants to kiss me?” Kitayama asks. “Or the pregnant girl possessing your body?”

“I don’t know,” Taisuke answers honestly. “All I know is that I want you right now.”

Kitayama’s eyes open more, his hands returning to life on Taisuke’s waist and pulling him closer. “Good enough for me.”

It takes Taisuke a second to realize he’s being kissed, and deeply, Kitayama’s hot mouth crushing his as Taisuke grabs onto his arms for support. His mind turns to mush and all he knows is Kitayama’s lips on his, tongue prying them open and Taisuke groans at the first flick against his own. He’s so sensitive that _this_ is all he needs to get hard, turning around to straddle Kitayama’s waist and rock against him, wasting no time getting friction.

“Jesus,” Kitayama groans, and Taisuke has a quip about being called ‘Jesus’ on the tip of his tongue until Kitayama grabs his hips and rocks against him, turning his joke into a moan. He can feel Kitayama hardening against him and it’s exhilarating, being like this with someone whom he could never have before.

“Bedroom,” Taisuke manages to hiss, and Kitayama nods as he stands up and leads Taisuke to his own room with one arm looped around his waist. Taisuke imagines that Kitayama would carry him if he had to, just to get there faster; that’s how intent Kitayama is on laying him down, and it has Taisuke brimming with pride because it’s all for _him_.

But when Taisuke’s back hits the mattress, it’s slow and gentle, Kitayama’s hands sliding up his body until he’s cupping Taisuke’s face. He covers Taisuke’s body with his as their mouths reconnect, and it feels even better with them lined up like this. A moan dies in his throat as he wraps his arms around Kitayama’s back, fisting his shirt and cursing its existence as he pulls it up enough to feel hot skin under his fingertips.

Kitayama drags his lips down Taisuke’s neck, trailing wet kisses in his wake, and Taisuke squirms as arousal consumes him. “Mitsu, please,” he says, his voice sounding entirely needy and desperate and right now he doesn’t care. “I need you inside me.”

A deep groan vibrates his collarbone, accompanied by a sharp snap of his hips that has Taisuke moaning out loud. “What about the baby?”

“The baby is the size of a bean,” Taisuke replies, a little exasperatedly. “You’re not going to hurt it. People have sex all the time while pregnant.”

“Yeah, but–” Mitsu stops short when Taisuke reaches between them to grope him directly, watching Kitayama’s eyes darken as he grows harder. “Fine. Lube and condoms?”

“Second drawer,” Taisuke instructs, taking the opportunity to breathe while Kitayama retrieves the items. “Though, you know, it’s not like you’ll get me even more pregnant.”

“I don’t know where you’ve been,” Kitayama grumbles, and Taisuke’s only offended for a second until Kitayama’s tugging at his clothes. Helpfully he lifts his arms over his head as Kitayama pulls off his shirt, then settles back to enjoy the sight of Kitayama yanking his own shirt over his head.

Then Kitayama’s back in his mouth and Taisuke smiles as he feels how much Kitayama wants this too, even if he won’t say so. Hands race for his waist and the rest of their clothes are gone so fast that it’s almost magic. Taisuke’s skin burns where it makes contact with Kitayama’s, his hands grasping for whatever muscles he can touch as Kitayama gently spreads apart his thighs and rubs lube on his fingers.

Taisuke hears the crinkling of a condom wrapper as Kitayama rolls it on and Taisuke feels different than he usually does in this position. More… _sensual_ , somehow, a rush of something coursing through him as Kitayama leans down to kiss him again, slowly working a finger inside him. Just his touch is enough to make it feel good, a soft groan dying on Kitayama’s tongue as he’s stretched open.

“Okay?” Kitayama asks, pulling away just enough to examine Taisuke’s face.

Taisuke grins as much as he can manage. “Yeah. I like it.”

Kitayama groans again and pushes in a second finger, kissing Taisuke much more heatedly than before. Taisuke entertains the thought of Kitayama expressing himself through his actions, but that’s as far as he gets before a third finger slips in with the others and his body is rocking back, more than ready for more.

“ _Mitsu_ ,” Taisuke whines into Kitayama’s mouth, and something akin to a growl answers him. “Please.”

The probing fingers disappear, but Taisuke doesn’t have time to miss them as the blunt head of Kitayama’s sheathed erection breaches his rim. He bites down on his bottom lip as Kitayama pushes in, his head dropping to Taisuke’s collarbone to avoid bending him like a pretzel, and it’s so thoughtful that Taisuke brings one of his hands to Kitayama’s hair to push it out of his face. The hard length inside him bottoms out and they both lay there for a second, Taisuke’s body raging with desire now that it’s gone this far.

“Taisuke,” Kitayama whispers, and Taisuke looks down in concern. “You feel so good.”

“Move,” Taisuke whispers back, encouragingly like Kitayama needs moral support to fuck, though the first roll of his hips is tentative. “Mitsu, please, I’m not a virgin. Obviously.”

“I don’t want to hurt you,” Kitayama gasps out, fingers tensing on Fujigaya’s shoulders as he slowly pulls back out and pushes in.

“I told you,” Taisuke starts. “The baby is only–”

“ _You_ , you idiot,” Kitayama exclaims, and Taisuke shivers at the angry tone of his voice. “I don’t want to hurt _you_.”

Taisuke stares at him, watching him squeeze his eyes shut, and wonders what’s going through his mind. He’ll probably never know, he resigns himself to thinking, though now Kitayama’s thrusting a bit faster and Taisuke feels it all over. “Thanks.”

The noncommittal grunt he receives turns into a low groan as Kitayama loops his arms around Taisuke’s shoulders and starts to rock back and forth. It’s slow at first, gradually building up speed, and Taisuke gasps with each motion because it’s not just about physical gratification anymore. He arches his back, changing the angle, and cries out loud when Kitayama hits the right spot.

Kitayama’s moans feel better when directed into his chest, right over his heart, and Taisuke thinks that means something deeper than he can comprehend right now. All he knows is Kitayama deep inside him, fucking him hard and holding him tight, making noises that go straight to Taisuke’s cock, which is twitching pointedly with each bounce on his abs.

“Mitsu,” Taisuke says again, and Kitayama glances up at him from under hooded eyes. His mid-coital expression is so hot that Taisuke stares at him for a second before he remembers he’d been speaking. “Touch me, please.”

He expects an argument, maybe some whining about doing all the work, but Kitayama just nods and detaches one of his hands from Taisuke’s shoulders to shove between them. He hadn’t realized how much he’s been sweating until Kitayama drags his fingers through the sheen on his chest, leaving trails of tingles that feel even better with Kitayama moving inside him.

Then fingers wrap around his cock and Taisuke can’t control his voice anymore, loud moans escaping with each breath, and the resounding in his head is pierced by Kitayama’s short, deep groans as he struggles to push through Taisuke’s tightening body. He fists Taisuke off as fast as he can, his thrusts increasing in speed to match, and Taisuke’s orgasm hits him so hard that he barely registers Kitayama’s whisper of his first name as he follows.

They’re close enough that Taisuke can feel Kitayama’s heartbeat, both racing out of their chests as they fall still and try to catch their breaths. Taisuke stretches out underneath the deadweight on top of him, hissing as his thighs protest the movement, and Kitayama makes a deflated noise as he rolls to the side and snaps off the condom.

He disappears then, and Taisuke ignores the pangs of longing inside him until the other man returns with a warm washcloth. He watches him curiously as Kitayama cleans him up, hands lingering on his belly as he seems to be considering it thoughtfully.

“What are you thinking about?” Taisuke asks carefully.

“Nothing in particular,” Kitayama replies, staring at his hands.

Taisuke grins. “Liar.”

He tries not to laugh at Kitayama’s glare, though his touch is still soft. “It’s dumb.”

“Try me.” Taisuke takes one of Kitayama’s hands in his own and laces their fingers together. The simple gesture feels more intimate than what they just did, but it also feels right.

Kitayama opens his mouth only to close it again, repeating the process two more times, and Taisuke doesn’t rush him. Finally Kitayama takes a deep breath and says, “I wish it was mine.”

“Why?” is Taisuke’s first response, his heart stinging at the truth. “You don’t even like me.”

“Stupid,” Kitayama says, and Taisuke frowns until he goes on. “I like you too much.”

Taisuke just stares at him, speechless. Now he’s the one opening and closing his mouth with nothing coming out.

“Why do you think I get jealous when you hook up with other guys?” Kitayama asks quietly, and everything clicks in Taisuke’s head. “I want you all to myself, and have for a while.”

“Mitsu,” Taisuke says incredulously, feeling something in his stomach that he is willing to bet has nothing to do with the baby. “Why didn’t you tell me before?”

“You never seemed to take an interest in me, even as a friend,” Kitayama answers, and it hurts because it’s true. “In fact, until this happened to you, you never _really_ looked at me.”

“I’m sorry,” Taisuke says, fighting back the damn emotions that are threatening to spill over his cheeks. “Until tonight, I didn’t think you cared about me past leader obligation.”

“I don’t have sex with people I don’t have feelings for,” Kitayama tells him firmly. “I think you can work that one out for yourself.”

Taisuke works it out all right, looping his arms around Kitayama’s neck and pulling him down for a kiss. “We can pretend,” he whispers.

“Pretend what?” Kitayama asks, sounding a little skeptical.

“That it’s yours,” Taisuke replies, and Kitayama kisses him again before the emotions he’s been holding back can spill down his cheeks.

*

“The boots,” Taisuke says suddenly, squirming at the weird jelly substance the doctor had rubbed on his abdomen.

“What?” Kitayama asks from beside him. “Don’t just say things without any pretense.”

He sounds annoyed, but he’s got one of Taisuke’s hands gripped firmly in his own, so Taisuke just smiles. “That night, you know. I was wearing those imported boots from Italy. The ones I took home from a photoshoot.”

“You _kept_ those?” Kitayama says incredulously. “Those were the most hideous boots I’ve ever seen in my life. How did anyone actually want to sleep with you while you were wearing them?”

“Well, to be fair, they came off at the door,” Taisuke points out, shuddering at Kitayama’s disapproving growl. He kind of likes how jealous the other man is. “But I bet it was them, Mitsu. Some kind of magical European fertility spell or something.”

“You’re so weird,” Kitayama tells him seriously, shaking his head at Taisuke’s grin as the doctor walks in.

They both turn to look at her, and Taisuke’s face falls at her guilty expression. “Sensei? Are we going to do an ultrasound? This stuff is cold.”

“We won’t be doing an ultrasound today,” she says, “because you’re not pregnant.”

Taisuke feels like his stomach drops to his knees, which is an ironic analogy considering the topic. “What?”

“What?!” Kitayama echoes, much angrier, and Taisuke squeezes his hand to calm him down. “But you showed me the results…”

“It must have been a false positive,” the doctor goes on. “The tests we just ran today show absolutely no trace of pregnancy. I’m sorry for the confusion.”

“Why was I sick for so long then?” Taisuke asks. “And only in the mornings?”

“What did you eat before bed?” the doctor replies.

“Dinner?” Taisuke answers. “We had been filming late into the night and I hadn’t had time to eat– oh.” He stares sheepishly down at his flat, glistening abdomen. “That explains that.”

“Well, now you won’t have to worry about it, right?” The doctor flashes a smile, completely misreading the mood, and starts to leave. “Let this be a lesson to you both. I don’t want to see you in here again, either of you.”

She disappears and silence fills the room. Taisuke keeps looking down. “I’m sorry.”

“What are you sorry for?” Kitayama asks, sounding like he’s forcing himself to be happy. “You didn’t lie about it or anything. I was here with you, remember?”

“Yeah,” Taisuke says. “But last night…”

A pause. “What about last night?”

The weight of Kitayama’s hand on his own feels heavy all of a sudden, and Taisuke licks his lips. “Now that there’s no baby, there’s no reason for you to stay with me.”

He doesn’t expect the slap to his head, and it hurts worse than before. “Idiot. The baby had nothing to do with it. I _love_ you, stupid.”

“If you really love me, you’ll stop calling me names,” Taisuke shoots back, but inside his heart is pounding. “I can fight now, you know.”

“You won’t fight me,” Kitayama says smugly, leaning closer to wrap his arms tightly around Taisuke, pinning his arms to his chest. “Besides, if there were no extra hormones, all of those _feelings_ were strictly yours.”

He sounds pleased about it, and Taisuke relaxes despite the embarrassment. “Yeah, well, don’t expect them again. I really thought I was pregnant, so it must have been something psychological–”

He’s cut off by Kitayama’s mouth, having been spun around and kissed so hard, and all of those emotions rush forward like they’d never left. This must be what love feels like, he thinks, because he wouldn’t know any better. He’s never seriously loved anyone before.

“You were saying?” Kitayama mutters facetiously, but Taisuke’s too busy melting to answer him.

*

The other guys take the news well, though disappointed that there won’t be a baby in the group. Yokoo especially had been looking forward to Taisuke’s weight gain. Taisuke’s sadness must be obvious, because Miyata immediately distracts him with dumb jokes and Nikaido releases Senga to sit in Taisuke’s lap.

Tamamori is uncharacteristically quiet until he notices Kitayama’s arm sling around the back of Taisuke’s chair. “How long have you two been sneaking around?”

That gets everyone’s attention, and Taisuke guiltily plays with his fingers.

“It just happened,” is all Kitayama gets out before the other four cheer and mock them both. Even Tamamori’s smile returns when he realizes they hadn’t been keeping anything from him, and it’s not until he stands up to shove Senga out of Taisuke’s lap and take his place that Taisuke notices what he’s wearing.

“Are those my boots?” he asks incredulously.

“Didn’t you say I could have them?” Tamamori says cutely, the little liar, but Taisuke just ruffles his hair.

“You should be careful wearing those out,” Kitayama says seriously, and none of the others can understand why both he and Taisuke can’t stop laughing.


End file.
